


A deeper understanding

by Eledhwen



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Daredevil & Defenders Exchange, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Growing old gracefully, Introspection, Old Friends, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eledhwen/pseuds/Eledhwen
Summary: On the morning of his birthday, Frank Castle wakes up and realises he’s getting old. There’s an ache in his left hip and another in his left shoulder which aren’t going away any more, and when he looks at himself in the mirror he sees mostly grey stubble.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Karen Page
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48
Collections: Daredevil and Defenders Exchange 2020





	A deeper understanding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neatmonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neatmonster/gifts).



> Dear neatmonster, thank you for your prompts and I hope you enjoy this. It came out a bit more fluffy than perhaps I was intending, but at least I managed to avoid a sad ending as requested! 
> 
> Prompt used was:  
> "I think people understand things different when they get older. It’s not a question of getting soft, or seeing things in the gray areas instead of black and white. I really believe I’m just understanding things different. Better." - Jeff Lindsay from Darkly Dreaming Dexter

On the morning of his birthday, Frank Castle wakes up and realises he’s getting old. There’s an ache in his left hip and another in his left shoulder which aren’t going away any more, and when he looks at himself in the mirror he sees mostly grey stubble.

He shaves, frowns at himself, and heads in search of coffee.

With the new realisation of his increasing years, Frank sees when he goes into the kitchen that Karen, too, is getting older. Her hair has lost some of its colour and the lines are growing around her eyes – but when she turns to smile at him and offer a mug of steaming coffee her eyes are as blue and her smile as sweet as they ever were.

“Happy birthday,” she says, waving at the counter, where a neatly wrapped present and a card are waiting for him.

He kisses her first, because that’s what he really wants to do on his birthday, and then opens the gift. It’s a bottle of expensive whiskey. They both agreed a while ago that they did not need more stuff, so gifts have tended to be of the consumable variety. In any case, Frank has never wanted material possessions. His joys have always been around people, and places, and simple pleasures.

“We can open it later,” Karen says. “Eggs?”

They have breakfast, and then she kisses him and heads off to work. She’s still going into the office a couple of times a week, although she’s starting to wind down. Not that the firm is winding down – in fact it’s buoyantly healthy – but they don’t need the money and Karen says the long days of investigating are beginning to tire her out.

Frank goes for a walk. Out of habit he has a knife tucked into the hidden holster at his waist, but he’s stopped carrying a gun when out and about. New York has changed, in the quarter-century since he and Karen finally got together and moved in. There are even more tall buildings, and even more people, but there’s also a different buzz to the place. The traffic is quieter and smells less, thanks to the advent of electric vehicles and more cycles. And he thinks maybe he’s just seeing the city differently. Less like there’s a potential attack lurking around every corner.

He walks to Central Park and sits for a bit, watching the pigeons and the world going by, before strolling back towards their apartment, via the grocery store and a deli for some lunch.

Karen messages him while he’s eating lunch to check up and remind him that they’re due to go for drinks in the evening with her colleagues. Frank hasn’t forgotten, but he kind of likes the reminder anyway.

The afternoon passes; he reads a bit, watches a bit of television, makes coffee, does the physio exercises he’s supposed to do more regularly and often doesn’t. The fact it’s his birthday has made him more aware he hasn’t been as diligent as he should be.

Just before seven he changes into a clean shirt and heads to the bar he’d chosen for drinks. It’s quiet, with music played low – the sort of place four people heading rapidly out of their 50s can sit and have a few beers without feeling swamped by younger folk. New York is a young person’s city, really, but none of them want to leave it. New York brought Frank peace and a new beginning when he thought there would be no more future for him – it brought him love. He and Karen have made their home here.

He’s the first at the bar, but he gets four beers and sits down at a table. In a short while the others arrive, discussing work as usual.

“There’s more to this than meets the eye,” Matt Murdock is saying, intently, to Karen, one hand gripping his partner’s sleeve.

“There may well be, but forget it for now,” Karen says, laughing, and waving at Frank. “No business talk.”

“Yes ma’am,” Foggy Nelson says, as they arrive at the table. “Hey, Castle. Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” Murdock adds, swiftly folding up his white cane and sliding into the booth opposite Frank.

Karen sits down next to Frank and leans in for a kiss. “Had a good day?” she asks.

“Had worse days,” Frank acknowledges. Foggy snorts a laugh.

“Coming from you, that’s hardly surprising,” he says. “Feeling old yet?”

Frank nods. “Yeah. Kinda. Some of us ain’t lived your comfortable life, Nelson.”

“You mean some of us haven’t spent years throwing ourselves off buildings and getting shot and stabbed,” Foggy observes, with a glance at his partner.

Matt raises his eyebrows back. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Nothing Frank and I haven’t heard before, from both of you. We always knew the risks. We’ve come out the other side.”

“A bit achier, perhaps,” Frank admits. “I wouldn’t do it now.”

“Hell no,” Matt agrees, raising his beer. “My days of throwing myself off buildings are long over, Fogs, you know that.”

“And your days of trying to kick the shit out of me,” Frank points out.

Matt grins, his smile wide and still as magnetic as ever. “Trying, Mr Castle? I seem to remember successfully kicking your ass on several occasions.”

“I’m so glad you both decided to just kick other peoples’ asses eventually,” Karen puts in, nudging Frank’s arm with hers.

Frank shrugs. “I guess we finally came to understand each other a bit better,” he says. “Like, maybe there was a middle ground between his way and my way.”

“And we both understood that sometimes having backup’s no bad thing,” adds Matt. “So helping us both to get to the point where we could retire and help celebrate birthdays we perhaps never thought we’d reach.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Foggy says, and they clink glasses. “To finding the grey areas in life,” he suggests.

“Or the grey areas on one’s head?” Karen says, running a hand over Frank’s crew cut.

“Ha ha,” says Frank. “You should be glad,” he adds, to Matt. “You’ll never be someone standing in front of a mirror looking at the grey and wondering where it came from.”

Matt looks rueful. “Don’t worry,” he says, “my barber informs me every time I go in. But, you know, like I said, we made it to the point where we’re going grey, so I’m counting that as a win.”

The conversation turns to other things, and it is much later that they leave the bar, mellow with the alcohol and companionship. Matt says he’ll walk back to his apartment; Foggy catches a cab; Karen links her arm in Frank’s and they stroll off in the opposite direction to their own place.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Karen asks. Frank looks down at her.

“Just that I can deal with getting older, if it’s going to be like this,” he says.

Karen nods. “Mmhmm. Me too. What do you think the old Frank and Karen would have said, if they could have seen us now?”

“What do you mean by the old Frank and Karen?” Frank asks. There’ve been so many varieties over the years, after all – the father, the soldier, the angry widower out for revenge, the vigilante … and she’s been addict, daughter, secretary, journalist, investigator. He’s not sure that the Frank and Karen now strolling contentedly down the street would be what they are without all those pieces jumbled together into the greying, aging couple they are.

“When we met,” she clarifies.

He thinks back, remembers seeing her for the first time, poised but nervous. Everything had hurt that day, everything had been black and dark, but Karen had been a light in that darkness.

“I think they’d have been happy to see what happened to us,” he says. “We made it through, and we made it through well.” He holds open the door of their building for her, and in turn she makes it to their door first and unlocks it.

“Let’s open that bottle,” Frank suggests.

Karen finds some glasses, and Frank unseals the bottle and takes a deep inhale of the aromas. “Wow.”

“No expense spared,” Karen says, as he pours them both a generous measure. “What shall we drink to, apart from your birthday?”

“To appreciating life,” says Frank. “Together.”

“To appreciating life,” she echoes, and they clink glasses and drink, and Frank thinks perhaps – just perhaps – he’s the most content he’s ever been.


End file.
